


I Choose You

by charleybradburies



Series: Post-Israel Us [2]
Category: NCIS, Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Airplane Sex, Airplanes, Bathroom Sex, Bathrooms, Bickering, Books, Brotherly Love, Crossover, Cunnilingus, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Introspection, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Overhearing Sex, Parenthood, Penis In Vagina Sex, Public Sex, References to Canon, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Soulmates, Swearing, Team as Family, Texting, The Princess Bride References, Travel, Vaginal Sex, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the easiest 180 of her life. She's tired of pretending.</p><p> <i>"There was a time when I would have believed them</i><br/><i>If they told me you could not come true</i><br/><i>Just love's illusion</i><br/><i>But then you found me and everything changed</i><br/><i>And I believe in something again"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The flight back to the US is excruciatingly long, and Tony soon realises that he's easily the only person still awake in the middle of the night, too wound up in thought to do much more than close his eyes and think.

Even Gibbs, never the fan of first class - he'd only accepted the ride because Orli insisted upon paying for all of them - is fast asleep, Tali peacefully resting on his chest and Ziva leaning into his right shoulder. To Tony's right, the Bishop ladies have been out since they got on the flight. Nikita, he figures, had some military-type training, but Ellie's at most a few years out of grad school, and that's self-explanatory. 

One row back, Michael's leaning toward the window. Next to him, Abby and McGee are practically sleeping on top of each other, and Tony's a little bit jealous, since Ziva's next to him on the other side of aisle and the flight attendants had been stingy about their seat numbers. They'd even stopped the couple - they _were_ a couple, right? - from holding hands across the aisle. Just in case of turbulence, they'd said, but come on - they were Navy investigators. They'd dealt with much worse. Turbulence on an airplane was nothing. Turbulence in Washington, well, that was another ballgame, but they'd dealt with that, too. And considering Vance's choice of Ziva as his replacement, they had another shitstorm ahead. He could see the headlines now: _Young mother chooses to make a living; Ex-Israeli pushes accomplished director out of office..._

Maybe he'd get her to go for the whole Director DiNozzo idea, though. Not that she had to take his name - hell, he'd take hers if she asked him to - but the fact remained that he wasn't getting rid of that ring anytime soon (or ever). The fact remained that he'd spent hours upon hours thinking about what he'd say if he ever got the chance to propose. He'd never settled on anything; there was too much to say, but then again, it didn't really matter what he said, did it? If it got her to stay?

They'd been skirting around their feelings for what, over nine years? How fast was too fast? They already had a child, and as much as he was usually more demanding sexually, she'd been the one to initiate sex almost every single time - although he figured that was because he was more flexible in terms of where and when, and had the habit of waiting to make sure she was ready and willing, so by the time she was, he'd become a blinking neon sign of readiness. 

_That…was definitely…not…your knee._  

He laughs. 

_“In Mossad, there's no such thing as pretending to have sex,”_ she'd told him later, as though it was an iron-clad excuse. They’d both known damn well that her position as liaison didn't require her to continue playing by Mossad's rules - not that he was about to challenge her on it. They were good together, even that first time, back when their whole relationship was tension and they knew so little about each other. And now, he knew her deepest secrets, and all her sweet spots, even though he still couldn’t name her favourite colour. 

"Hey, Zi, what's your-" he opens his eyes and turns to say, only to find that she's no longer in her seat. A few seconds later, he feels something against the back of his seat, and suddenly she's leaning toward him. She slides her left hand down to his armrest. 

"Tony…" she whispers, and the look in her eyes makes him wonder if she's a mind reader. "The bathroom's open."

He glances around, and upon seeing that the entire plane - save for the cockpit, obviously, as they're still in the air above the Atlantic - is devoid of any activity, unclicks his seatbelt and stands up, letting Ziva pull him down the aisle. 

The small lavatory is barely big enough for one of them, let alone both, but neither agent is particularly picky. As much as he'd love to ravish Ziva entirely, Tony knows that the circumstances won't exactly allow, so he settles for squatting, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder, and thanking whatever higher power impressed upon her to wear a pencil skirt for the trip home, although he realises right then that there's a possibility she had planned this. 

Either way, he's pleased with said circumstances, especially as she thrusts reflexively into his mouth, grasping out for his hands as she begins to writhe. He interlocks his fingers with hers, wrapping his arms around her hips and keeping her vulva pressed up against his mouth. She leans back a couple of inches to steady herself on the sink, and stifles a throaty moan. 

His tongue makes quick work of her mounting arousal, and after a few minutes, his name can barely escape her mouth. But it does, and he gazes up at her expectantly, provocatively. She tugs weakly at his hair, pulling him away from her.

“Fuck me,” she moans softly, and although he hears her clearly, the knowledge that she’s on the verge of begging is too tempting, and he slowly drifts down her thighs, leaving tender kisses every inch or so. Her breathing hitches, and she raises her voice.

“Fuck me, Tony,” she demands, and this time he stands up; he leans forward and kisses her neck, and while one of her arms wraps around him the other takes the initiative to undo his belt and clutch at his erection. 

“As you wish,” he says, almost absentmindedly - realising soon after that she’s unlikely to appreciate the _Princess Bride_ reference - and pushes into her with a gentle grunt. He adds the film to his “Must-Make-Ziva-Watch” list and kisses her again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hebrew: 
> 
> Ani ohevet otcha / Ani ohev otach : I love you. 
> 
> Bevadai, ahuvati sheli : Of course, my love.
> 
> Lama? : why?
> 
> Italian: 
> 
> Grazie di tutto: Thank you for everything.
> 
> *All of my Hebrew is what I know of from my American Jewish friends, and my Italian is from my own family, so if there is something I am using incorrectly, please let me know.*

“Having a good flight, DiNozzo?” asks Gibbs slowly, with a hint of not-quite-gentle snark. His eyes are still closed and Tony and Ziva both fight the urge to curse as they slide back into their seats.

“I am, boss. How about you?” Tony replies, forcing a cheery tone. Gibbs grunts noncommittally, opens his eyes slightly, glances at the still-sleeping Tali, and falls back asleep. 

Tony’s phone dings from inside the bag underneath the seat in front of him, and he pulls it out. 

_BUSTED,_ reads a text from McGee, and Tony moves up onto his knees to turn to face Tim and stick his tongue out. Ziva rolls her eyes and yanks him back down into his seat, so he reflexively sticks his tongue out at her instead, and she returns the gesture before chuckling at him affectionately.

“You are such a child,” she whispers. 

“I love you, too,” he replies jokingly, but she knows, especially from the sincere gaze between them that occupies the following few moments, that the tone is little more than that. 

Ziva reaches into the bag before her, holding all of Tali’s things and a couple of her own, one of which being a nearly finished book. She pulls it out and flips it open.

“I promised myself I’d finish it before I returned to DC,” she declares quietly to Tony, and he leans to see the cover.

“ _Eat, Pray, Love?_ Really? That’s pretty domestic, Zi.”

“And?” she feigns offense. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, but he grins at her as he settles further into his seat.

“I have copies of McGee’s books if you would like to take a dab at one of them.”

“ _Stab,_ Ziva. The expression is ‘to take a stab at’. But no, we’ve still got WiFi, thanks to this fancy plane…I’ll just play Symbolese with Palmer.” 

Ziva chuckles. 

“You _would_ enjoy that game.”

“You play it?”

“Adam does. Quite rabidly, actually. And Tali is rather amused by the pictures.”

“Ah, right. You and Adam were…undercover together.”

“Are you jealous again, Tony?”

“A- what? No,” Tony gripes defensively. 

“Mmhmm,” grumbles Gibbs, and Ziva looks up from her book for a moment to look between the two men and laugh.

“Almost home, tateleh,” Ziva cooes at Tali after she startles herself awake a moment later. 

“Almost home,” Tony repeats softly as he looks over at them lovingly, grabbing Ziva’s book from her so that she can take their daughter into her arms. Tali grasps at Ziva’s hair, pulling a few strands into her mouth and smiling. All three adults in her close vicinity return her expression, and for a short moment Tony lets himself feel surprised at the sight of Gibbs making such silly faces.

It’s almost an out-of-body experience, and it reminds him of the first time he saw Ziva cry. Her ninja facade had begun to crumble, and although it took years to get it to really start to come down, that singular moment (just like the first time he saw her truly laugh) had been the beginning of an era of their lives - an era which just now was making way for an even better one. 

One in which they would not be strangers with separate lives which slowly become woven together, but a life in which they just might be together. _Together._ Raise their darling little girl, _together._ Watch Gibbs be a grandfather, _together._ Wake up and go to work and have breakfast and lunch and dinner and go to sleep… _together._

He loses himself in a blur of potential scenarios that might transpire in their future, until Ziva’s warm hand meets his and he blinks himself back to full awareness to see her gazing fondly across the aisle.

“Ani ohevet otcha,” she whispers.

“Ani ohev otach,” he replies. 

“Gibbs was right…you have been practicing,” she says, trying in vain to downplay the scarlet flushing her cheeks.

“Bevadai, ahuvati sheli.”

“Lama?”

He purses his lips.

“Business as usual. For you.”

“Grazie,” she says. “Di tutto, Tony.”

“Well,” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance, “that’s what soulmates do, isn’t it?”

“So you have thought about them…”

“In the past six years, yes, Ziva…yes, I have thought about soulmates.”

Tony’s phone dings with another text, and he groans but leans forward to grab it anyway.

“If this is you, McGee, I swear-"

_Just shut up and kiss already, will ya?_

_I’m whipped, I know. Now back off, McBuzzkill._

“You say that like I haven’t been paying attention for the past decade, Tony!” McGee says reflexively, lowering his voice when Abby taps him to remind him that there are other passengers aboard. “I’ve written books about how whipped you are, remember?”

 _I REMEMBER,_ types Tony melodramatically. 

Ziva reaches over and plucks the phone from his hands, turning it off and stowing it in her bag singlehandedly. 

“You two are such children.”

“But you love us,” chimes McGee giddily, and she and Abby exchange a cognizant glance as they giggle and roll their eyes.

“Well,” Ziva begins. “You are…my family. And now…now, I am coming home with my family.”

“Damn right!” Abby corroborates.

“Abigail…” responds Gibbs paternally, in an uncharacteristically cheery manner. “Not in front of your niece, please.”

“It’s sixty-one today, folks, at Washington Dulles International Airport, six-ten in the morning Eastern Standard Time,” says a voice over the PA system. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you.”

At Tony’s right, Ellie and Nikita both groan as they awaken. 

“Landing already?” grumbles the former as the latter shakes her hair back into order.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty Squared,” grunts Michael from behind them, and his wife leans between the seats to stick her tongue out at him. Tony gives Ziva momentary puppy dog eyes and mouths, “see?” but she sticks her own tongue out at him, and they both laugh.

He gazes across the aisle at her as she beams down at the child resting upon her chest.

 _Together,_ thinks Tony warmly to himself. 

_Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work/series has pretty much been on hiatus since posting this chapter. It will be continued at some point and eventually finished, at least through the twenty planned chapters for this work. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, and thank you for reading!! xx


End file.
